


Camera On!

by valeskaduh



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Cum Tribute (sort of), F/M, Grief/Mourning, Kidnapping, Masturbation, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Silent Treatment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24843280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valeskaduh/pseuds/valeskaduh
Summary: Jeremiah longed to rip you apart and then glue you back together like a toy he would use for his questionable needs. He just had to destroy you; make you suffer and do what his foolish brother couldn’t – push you over the edge.
Relationships: Jeremiah Valeska/Reader, Jeremiah Valeska/You, Jerome Valeska/Reader (prior relationship), Jerome Valeska/You (prior relationship)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 56





	Camera On!

**Author's Note:**

> This is probably the dirtiest (and most fucked up) shit I have ever written in my entire life. It turned out a little darker than I thought …

_I've got a sick mind_

_and not the fun kind._

_– Sick Mind, Elliot Lee_

Classical music could be heard in the background. The composition playing was Lacrimosa by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Like a royal highness, Jeremiah Valeska was sitting enthroned on a brown leather armchair, while he crossed his legs. In one hand he held a glass of whisky and in the other one the diary of his deceased brother Jerome.

While he was sipping his alcohol, his milky eyes did not move from the page of the journal which was laying in his lap. Your name was written on it over and over again. After the author of the book probably had enough, he furiously crossed your pseudonym out – so hard that there were small holes on it which gave a little glimpse of the next side.

Jerome was obsessed with you. And yet he failed. His plan was to drive you mad, but he never had the heart to break your mind. Jerome indeed accepted you as an equal and kept you at his side. You were like a couple. In the end, you represented his weak spot, his Achilles' heel in human form, but everyone around you two were too ignorant to see it. You made him soft and weak. _Pathetic_.

“Hello?” It was your voice which barely reached his ears. The dramatic symphony in his room almost drowned your conversational gambit. You sounded cautious, a little hesitant – like you weren't sure if you should try talking to him. Or maybe you worked out a plan to breakout and wanted to make sure your captor wasn't keeping a wary eye on you.

Curiosity had eventually taken Jeremiah's attention from the diary. He closed the badly written biography of his twin brother and emptied the butterscotch liquor in one gulp ( _keeping a straight face_ ). After he put the glass and the journal on his work desk, he walked with a lonely standing swivel chair to his monitors, where he positioned it before the display screens and took a seat. You had placed yourself right in front of the camera lens. For Jeremiah, it felt like you were facing him in the flesh, yet the poor quality of the old camcorder reminded him that you were locked up in one of the cheerless rooms of his maze.

“Hello? Are you … hello?” You repeated yourself, followed by a snivel. The man on the chair noticed that your eyes, normally glowing with arrogance when you would talk to him, were puffy and red. You were crying. Again. You always were. Day after day, night after night. Even when Jeremiah wasn't resting in front of the screens ( _watching your pitiful figure_ ), you still were crying.

“Are you … are you there?” You seemed a little nervous, tucking a lost strand of hair behind your ear. Interested, he observed your face on the different monitors which made you and your surroundings appear blue. Jeremiah did not bother to answer you. One time he would reply, the other time he would remain silent. And right now, he did not feel like socializing with you.

You chewed on your lower lip, your gaze wandering to the concrete floor ( _you seemed to be thinking about something_ ) before you looked back into the camera lens. Only now he noticed that your hair was greasy and that the innocent nightgown with the floral pattern which his proxy Ecco gave you a few days earlier had sweat stains under your armpits. Your appearance was unhygienic, in fact catastrophic. Jeremiah was under the impression that he could smell your horrible stench through his displays. Until now he had not found the time to bathe you, had other _more important_ things to take care of. The thought that he would have to wash you soon made him scrunch up his nose. You would stink up the place, pollute the air.

Ecco was the one who had been interacting with you up to now. She would bring you food every day. In the beginning you refused to touch it, you were displeased and kicked it away ( _causing a mess on the floor_ ). However, after a while you stopped fighting it and ate everything on the plate like a well-behaved child. Your kidnapper made sure that you had a balanced and healthy diet. You even lost weight, but he did not know whether it was because of your new diet or because you did not want to eat at first.

“Are you … watching?” The red flashing of the camera had to be answer enough. But maybe you understood that he activated it on purpose every now and then to make you believe that he was watching you even though he was actually busy with other things. Perhaps it indeed clicked in your head and you figured out that he was playing mind games. “ _Jeremiah_?”

Surprised, the addressed male crossed his arms over his chest. He could not believe what he had just heard from your dry and chapped lips. Not once did you call him by his given name. Ordinarily it was “ _Valeska_ ” or more often “ _asshole_ ”. He despised the fact that you had a wicked tongue. In the future he would teach you manners. After all it was not your fault, it was Jerome's. He let you get away with it. And you had to learn that Jeremiah was nothing like his brother.

“Jeremiah?” Carefully you waved your hand in front of the camcorder. No respond. Relieved, you breathed out, turned your back to him and walked to the grey mattress on the floor, which was directly opposite the lens. Jeremiah was convinced by your calm behavior that you would try to escape at any moment, which is why he kept an eye on you like a prying hawk.

Contrary to his expectations, you sat down on the mattress, your back leaning against the wall and your legs bent. You spread them without warning, gave him a look at your single-colored panties. Before he could realize what exactly you were about to do, your hand disappeared between your thighs ( _your fingers already touching your genital area through your panties_ ). His eyes widened as he watched your hand making circular movements. Your teary ones were closed while your head was leaned back against the grey wall. Jeremiah could tell that you savored this moment to the fullest.

Maybe it was the confusion or the interest that made him suddenly freeze. For a long time, he could not take his gaze off of you, felt his cheeks turning red ( _he blamed it on the whisky he had before_ ) and his orange pants becoming uncomfortably tight around his private parts. Just as he was about to turn off the device, a soft moan escaped your lips. His right hand was above the button that would have given you privacy, but you had to moan with pleasure, hadn’t you?

To be honest, your groans sounded more heavenly than the symphony in the background. At least in this state – in the state of lust. Instead of turning off the camcorder, his hand unknowingly moved to his crotch. As he listened to you composing your own piece, his pale fingers stroked over his bulge. The music didn't reach his ears anymore. The only thing he concentrated on was your lustful noises as he dared to touch himself.

After you took off both your silly nightgown and your panties, he also made the decision to unbutton his pants and to strip himself halfway from his clothes. Comfortably he reached for his freed member which had become hard over time, while his eyes were focused on your fingers sliding over your wet entry. Jeremiah did not question whether it was right or wrong to watch you and to get sexual satisfaction at the same time. His morals had been twisted for a long time and did not conform to the social norms anymore. He simply didn't care if this was okay or not. You couldn’t see him anyway. _But he could see you and he craved to see you right now_.

“ _J-Jerome ..._ ” A third time that day you surprised Jeremiah ( _made him furrow his brow_ ) when you moaned the name of his dead twin brother while you were playing with yourself. It didn't please him. Quite the opposite, it annoyed him. How desperate did you have to be to imagine Jerome touching you – _a buried man_? Jeremiah couldn't give it a second thought, couldn't pull you to pieces in his sick mind, because his manhood stood straight up in the air, precum oozing out the tip. He wanted to minimize the resistance of his skin by using his saliva but instead of spitting in his right hand, as his insane brother probably would have done, he let the oral fluid slide out of his mouth and reach his throbbing member ( _using it as a lubricant_ ). While his hand spread the saliva around it, he leaned back and caught himself moaning with pleasure.

Jeremiah had not really been the sexual type, but since Jerome sprayed him with his insanity gas, he suddenly felt attracted towards women ( _in an impure way_ ). For example, when he saw Ecco a few days earlier in the red dress she was wearing for an important occasion and he could take a look at her daring neckline ( _while something twitched in his pants_ ). Ecco would do anything to get him to touch her, but in this case, he would not give in. Feelings would get in the way – for her part. And he could not let that happen. They had to function as a team and not as lovers. She had to stay focused for him. Still, he would let Ecco believe that there was more between the two of them. _After all, hope was a powerful weapon._

Your unforeseen but sweet noises drove the blonde out of his thoughts and made room for you, only you. His attention wandered back to the displays. In the meantime, you had taken off your push-up bra ( _that was matching your panties_ ), exposing your upper body to him. With one hand you were taking care of your lower region while your other one was massaging your breast. Seeing you like that made his breath hitch.

“S-stop … teasing me.” It sounded like you were talking to him, but he knew only too well that you were apparently in your thoughts, addressing his dim-witted twin. Yet Jeremiah fantasized that you were speaking to him.

A gasp escaped your lips as your fingers slipped into you, your back arching in response. Slowly he let his hand slide up and down his length. The picture of you, how your cheeks turned red and your hips rocked in a specific rhythm, was alluring. Lewd but alluring.

“H-harder … please.” You begged. Then something snapped inside Jeremiah, as if some thread of control that he had over himself broke. He jumped up from the swivel chair, which rolled back noisily, then supported himself with his left hand on the table while he formed his other one into a fist ( _using it as a substitute for your pink lips between your thighs_ ). He imagined that he would thrust into you again and again. It felt good, you felt so good. In his thoughts you were laying beneath him, begging him to stop while he pounded into your body with steady, harsh strokes. He would not adjust to your rhythm. At this rate, he would have probably broken you and he worshiped the idea of it.

Your moans of pleasure mixed with Jeremiah's, both of you trapped in your own worlds. While Jeremiah pictured fucking you mercilessly on his work desk, you thought of Jerome screwing you in some dark alley in Gotham. The only thing you two had in common at this moment was that you were masturbating.

“Y-yes … yes.” Your obscene voice reverberated in his ears. He began to grunt like an animal while his head was spinning. His whole body no longer obeyed him, surrendered to the lust in order to reach the long-awaited climax ( _after all the feeling of desire was too sweet not to fall for it_ ).

Jeremiah longed to rip you apart and then glue you back together like a toy he would use for his questionable needs. He just had to destroy you; make you suffer and do what his foolish brother couldn’t – _push you over the edge._

No longer he was able to hold it back. His body was in high gear ( _a thin layer of sweat covering his flawless skin under his tight clothing_ ) and when he heard a high-pitched wail escaping your throat, his shaft started twitching in his clenched fist. Jeremiah came at the same time as you did.

And as he rode out his intense orgasm, pumping up and down his length ( _to relish this moment a little longer_ ), his semen was released all over the wooden table and monitors that displayed your squirming figure.

After he came down from his climax, he tried to get some control over his irregular breathing.

Slowly Jeremiah noticed what he had done. _What you made him do._

The sticky liquid covered almost all of his equipment. Here and there it even ran down the screens, dripping on the table. The corners of his mouth twitched downward, disgust flickering in his piercing eyes. He had to clean it up quickly before his assistant would see it, because he didn’t know how to explain it to her. But before he began to move, a poignant scene should run its course. A sob echoed from the room you were trapped in. Confused, he laid eyes on one of the monitors, on which you weren’t completely covered in his cum.

“Why!” You exclaimed and burst into a flood of tears. “W-why did you have to l-leave me? W-why, _Jerome_? I-I loved you … s-so much.” _Such a despicable creature._

That wasn't exactly what Jeremiah expected to hear, after he knocked one out over you, but your poor soul helped him to develop a plan ( _in a very short time_ ). A plan that was all about shattering you.

_And the key to breaking your mind was none other than Jerome._

**Author's Note:**

> There is a sequel ... so it's probably part of a series? It's certainly more disturbing than this one. Trust me when I tell you Jeremiah's up to no good and what he has in store for you will put everything else in the shade. I'll probably have to watch a rom-com after that. By the way, English isn't my first language! That's no excuse - I know, but I just wanted to tell you guys. Please bear with me.


End file.
